


The Tragedy of Richard and Jacob

by Freezeurbrain



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Cameos, Character Death, Gay, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, M/M, No One Makes Good Decisions, Teenage Rebellion, Tragedy, a lot of cameos, bad decision making, irresponsible adults, it’s Romeo and Juliet what did you expect, repost bc I fucked up and deleted the first copy of this, shakespeare au, this is what Shakespeare would have wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freezeurbrain/pseuds/Freezeurbrain
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene.From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, as civil blood makes civil hands unclean.From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-crossed lovers take their life.Whose misadventured piteous overthrows, doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.The fearful passage of their death-marked love, and the continuance of their parents’ rage, which, but their childrens’ end, naught could remove.Is now this two hours’ traffic on our stage- the which, if you with patient ears attend, what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
Relationships: Jake Dillinger & Brooke Lohst, Jake Dillinger & Jeremy Heere, Jake Dillinger/Rich Goranski
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CAST
> 
> Rich: Juliet  
> Jake: Romeo  
> Brooke: Benvolio  
> Jeremy: Mercutio  
> Chloe: Tybalt  
> Mr. Reyes: Friar Lawrence  
> Christine: Paris  
> Jenna: Prince Escalus

It was another hot day in the city of Verona, the kind of heat that sent good citizens scrambling into bars and restaurants for a few minutes of shade and cool air. One such establishment was packed full to the brim with people, making the place real loud and not much cooler than the heat outside they were trying to escape. Inside this bar, two men- one redheaded and one brunette -leaned against a wall, where the air was slightly more bearable than the middle of the room. The brunette was staring at a collection of paintings on the wall, while the redhead was preoccupied with using a piece of paper to fan himself. Both men wore red uniforms, with badges on their chest proudly proclaiming that they served the house of Goranski. 

“Lucas, mark my word, if anyone tries to pick a fight with me today, I’m snapping. I can’t take anyone’s garbage.” The brunette crossed one arm over his chest, his other hand resting on the hilt of a long sword that dangled from his belt. 

“I would sure hope not.” Despite the heat, a smirk came across the redhead’s face. “Why, then you’d be a garbageman.” 

The brunette rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. If anyone makes us angry, I’m not holding back.”

“Maybe focus less on pulling your sword out and focus more on pulling yourself out of trouble, eh, Connor?” Lucas raised an eyebrow. 

“Shut up.” Connor grumbled. “You know, I hit pretty bloody hard when I’m angry.”

“Must be hard to make you angry.” Lucas leaned against a nearby table, delighting in the sort of game he’d come up with of riling his partner up. 

“One of those Dillinger dogs could make me angry.” Connor scowled at the mention of an enemy house.

Lucas couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. “Angry enough to throw a rock at him and run?”

“That was _once_!” Connor muttered defensively. “And for your information, I saw a guard coming.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Lucas rolled his eyes. 

Connor seemed about to fire back, but something caught his eye. Two men had just walked into the bar, wearing blue clothing, the badges upon their chest displaying a peacock and a gladiolus flower- the Dillinger family crest. 

“Well, well, well.” Connor smirked. “Look who decided to waltz in.”

Lucas laughed, rubbing his hands together. “This‘ll be good.” 

“All right, here’s the plan.” Connor turned to Lucas and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We want to let _them_ start the fight. We can claim self-defense and get off scot-free.”

“How do we get them to attack us?” Lucas asked, looking over Connor’s shoulder at the Dillinger servants. 

A mischievous smile spread over Connor’s face, like a schoolboy about to place a tack on his teacher’s seat. “I’m gonna bite my thumb at them.”

“Bite your... what?” Lucas could have grasped a crude sexual gesture or even a certain finger in the air, but _thumb biting_? “What are we, five?”

“It’s a gesture of disrespect.” Connor adjusted his red leather cap over his dark hair. “If they let me get away with it, they’ll be dishonored.”

Lucas considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?” 

The two of them snickered at their plot, then began to walk across the bar towards where the two Dillinger servants were talking. One wore glasses and had taken the liberty of sprucing up his cape with patches of colored fabric, while the other had his blue leather cap on backwards. As they passed the servants, Connor, struggling to hold in his laughter, held his hand up to his mouth and bit his thumb.

The servants noticed, and ceased their talking. The servant with the backwards cap narrowed his eyes at Connor. “Sir, did you just bite your thumb at us?” 

Connor smiled cheekily. “I’m biting my thumb.”

“Yes, but are you biting your thumb at _us_?” 

Connor started to respond, but stopped and whispered something to Lucas. “Is the law on our side if I tell them yes?”

Lucas shook his head rapidly and drew a hand over his throat, telling Connor everything he needed to know. He turned back to the servants and plastered on a wide smile. “No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, but I am biting my thumb.” 

Lucas narrowed his eyes in mock surprise. “Are you trying to start something?”

“No, sir, we don’t want to start anything.” The servant with the decorated cape looked at Lucas and Connor with distaste, his voice laced with venom.

“Pity.” Connor looked towards Lucas and shook his head. “We could take you. My master’s as good as yours, after all.”

“Pfft.” The servant with the backwards cap let out a snort of laughter. “Your master’s not as good as ours.”

“You’re right.” Connor smirked. “Ours is better.”

A small crowd had gathered around the patrons by now, with the red and blue uniforms making it easy to discern who was Goranski and who was Dillinger. The patrons were egging on their respective sides, shouting at each other from their places at tables and chairs. Over the heads of the spectators, Lucas could just barely see a blonde woman enter the tavern, a perplexed look crossing her face when she saw the scene that befell her. 

The servant with glasses scowled. “You lie.”

“Why don’t we settle this like men?” Quicker than a cheetah pouncing on its prey, Connor pulled his sword out from its sheath. Lucas mirrored him, and the Dillinger servants drew their weapons too after a moment of stunned silence. A gasp went up from the crowd, and then the murmur became a roar. 

“Don’t let this stand!” 

“Get them!” 

“Down with the Goranskis!” 

“Down with the Dillingers!”

The four servants obliged the crowd’s demands. They began to cross swords, the sound of clanging metal filling the air as cheers went up from the raucous crowd. Dillingers taunted Goranskis, and vice versa, as Connor dodged a sword strike and returned it with a slash of his own. Lucas took a glass of liquor from a nearby table and tossed it in his opponent’s face, blinding him momentarily and allowing Lucas to disarm him. While Connor and the other Dillinger servant fought with swords, Lucas threw his weapon down in favor of clamping his opponent into a headlock. The Goranskis in the crowd let out a roar of delight.

As the chaos reigned, the blonde woman from earlier had managed to push and shove her way through the crowd to see what was occurring. When she beheld the fight for herself, her eyes widened in shock. 

“Stop!” She ran out between Connor and his opponent, dodging sword blows that weren’t meant for her. “All of you, stop it! Break it up!” 

A cold laugh came from the Goranskis, and another woman stepped out into the makeshift fighting ring. She had long brown hair and wore an impeccable red suit, with a steely glare and smirk that was as intimidating as the sword she held in her hand. “Really, Brooke? You’re fighting with servants? I’d have thought you a woman of more class than this. Come on, fight with a worthy opponent.” She held her arms out, as if inviting Brooke to attack her. 

“I’m not-“ Brooke was interrupted by a glass, thrown by one of the Dillinger servants, that she was forced to dodge. “I’m not _fighting_! I’m trying to keep the peace! And you’re really not helping, _Chloe_ , what with that sword you’re waving around. Either-“ She pulled out her own sword just in time to block a wayward blow from Connor. “Either put that thing away or use it to help me stop this nonsense!”

Chloe raised a single eyebrow. “Peace, is it? That’s a funny word coming from the woman with her sword out.” 

“Not the time-“ 

Chloe cut Brooke off with a sword swing that Brooke parried. Now that those two were involved, what had previously been a small skirmish was now a full-on bar fight. Every Goranski and Dillinger in the building seemed to join in, and the air became a storm of clanging steel and shouts. 

“What is the meaning of this?” 

A woman’s voice rang through the bar like a roar of thunder, silencing everyone. As if a switch had been flipped, the fighters immediately lay down their weapons and dropped to their knees as Jenna Rolan, Princess of Verona, entered with her escorts. And by the expression on her face, she was not happy. 

“Will somebody explain to me why my own subjects have taken to drawing swords on each other in bars?” Princess Rolan crossed her arms in such a manner it made the ex-fighters feel like toddlers being disciplined. “It is only Wednesday, and already now you’ve practically caused three riots, and because of what? Because a Goranski said something insulting? Because a Dillinger looked at you funny?” 

“Princess, if I may-“ Chloe was cut off by the Princess holding up a hand.

“Ms. Valentine, I don’t wish to hear any excuses. You’ve been in all three fights I just mentioned.” 

The Dillinger servants Connor and Lucas had started the fight with began to snicker, until the Princess silenced them with a look. “And Dustin, you don’t exactly have a perfect record when it comes to brawling, either.” 

“Princess Rolan, I was only trying to stop the fight.” Brooke interjected. 

“And I appreciate that sentiment, Brooke, but this has gone on long enough!” Princess Rolan turned to face the crowd. “From this moment on, I decree that any and all involvement in this feud is hereby outlawed! If I catch so much as a whiff of Goranskis and Dillingers fighting, I promise you, the offenders will pay with their lives for violating my edict.”

She turned to Connor and Lucas. “You two are to come with me.” She turned to Dustin and his partner. “You two, come by the palace this afternoon. As for the rest of you- begone.”

With her cape flowing behind her, Princess Rolan exited the bar. Seemingly following her example, Goranskis and Dillingers alike began to exit and go their separate ways, until finally it was only Brooke left alone in the bar. 

Not for long, however. Barely two minutes after everyone had left, another man walked in- Sir Jason Heere, acting leader of the House of Dillinger and Brooke’s uncle. Sir Jason had adopted the Dillingers’ young boy, Jacob, when his parents had died. Because Jacob had not yet reached his twenty-first birthday, Sir Jason ran House Dillinger’s affairs in his adoptive son’s place. As he entered the bar, Sir Jason’s eyes widened and he stopped where he stood. 

“Good Lord, what in the name of Sam Hill happened here?” Sir Heere took in the toppled chairs, the shattered glass, and the spilled beverages soaking into the wooden floorboards. 

“The feud, that’s what happened.” Brooke put her head in her hands and sank down onto a chair that had managed to remain upright throughout all the fighting. “It was chaos, uncle.” 

“Well, what happened?” Sir Heere asked. 

“Two of the Goranskis’ servants started fighting with two of ours.” Brooke explained, “I tried to break them up, but Chloe Valentine stepped in and started attacking me. She got me all tied up in fighting her, so I couldn’t stop when other people joined in. Princess Rolan had to break everything up. She’s outlawed all future involvement in the feud, under penalty of death.”

“I miss everything, don’t I?” Sir Heere shook his head.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, uncle, but where exactly were you?”

Sir Heere sighed. “I’ve been looking for Jacob all morning. You haven’t seen him, have you, niece?” 

Brooke’s eyes widened, and she stood up with a start. “Actually, I think I have!” 

“Really? Where?” 

“This morning, I woke up an hour before dawn and couldn’t get back to sleep. I decided to take a walk around the estate, and I saw Jacob walking the same path as me. When I went to talk with him, he ran off into the sycamore grove.”

“The sycamore grove...” Sir Heere stroked his chin in thought. “Why, he’s been there every morning for the past week! Then as soon as the sun rises, he’s home and locks himself in his room all day, with the curtains shut and the doors locked.”

“What’s got him so upset?” Brooke pondered. 

“I don’t know. He won’t tell me.”

“Have you tried having someone else talk to him?”

Sir Heere nodded. “I tried to get Jeremiah to talk to him, but Jacob wouldn’t say a word.”

“That _is_ strange.” Brooke said. 

In an incredible stroke of luck, Jacob Dillinger himself happened to walk through the door in that very moment. Known to his friends and family as simply Jake, he typically made his presence known when he entered a room- by smiling, cracking jokes, and generally being a loud teenage boy. Today, however, he hung his head and wore a pensive expression of sadness. His shoulders slumped as if a hundred-pound weight had been placed there, and he wore all black- like he had just returned from somebody’s funeral. 

“Here he is now.” Brooke lowered her voice to a whisper, pointing over her shoulder at Jake. “Tell you what, uncle- I’ll talk to him. He’ll either tell me what’s wrong or I’ll simply keep pestering him until he does.” 

Sir Heere gave a relieved, tired smile. “Oh, Brooke. What would I do without you?”

As Sir Heere left, Brooke cleared her throat and walked across the empty bar to where Jake stood. “Good morrow, cousin.”

Jake’s head jolted up, as if Brooke’s voice had snapped him out of deep thoughts. “It’s morning already?” 

“It’s only nine o’clock.” Brooke said.

Jake sighed deeply, sinking down onto a chair. “I guess time moves differently when one’s in mourning. Tell me, Brooke, was that my father that left here in such a hurry?”

Brooke dodged the question, instead zeroing in on the first part of what Jake had said. “Mourning? What has you mourning?”

“I don’t have the thing that makes time fly.” Jake said.

“Ah.” Brooke nodded slowly, her eyebrows raising as she understood. “I see.” She sat down next to Jake, looking him in the eye. “You’re in love.” 

“Out.”

“Of love?”

“I love someone, but she might as well not know I’m alive.” Jake leaned back, sadness creasing his forehead.

“That _is_ very sad.” Brooke bit her bottom lip, placing a comforting hand on Jake’s shoulder. 

“It’s heart-wrenching.” Jake stood up, gesturing to the air around him with his hands. “They say love is blind, but we’re still slaves to it. It comes from nothing. Love is sad happiness and serious foolishness. It’s foolish things muddled together into an ugly mess. It’s heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- it’s everything except what it is! That’s the kind of love I feel, because there’s no one to return my love. My father and Jeremy are trying to comfort me, but you can’t provide comfort when you don’t understand what’s troubling someone. A blind man can’t forget the sight he’s lost. A deaf man can’t forget what he once heard. And a man who doesn’t have love can’t forget the love he once knew- are you _laughing_?”

Brooke stopped in the middle of a laugh, then faked a sob. “No.” She sniffed. “I’m... I’m crying.”

“Crying? Why?” 

“I’m mourning with you.” Brooke was counting on Jake being too preoccupied with whatever he was brooding over to notice the fact that she was lying through her teeth.

Jake let out a sigh. “I hate to have dragged you into my sadness. If you keep crying, then I’m going to start crying, and you’ll be crying even harder, and then both our hearts will be heavy and we’ll have solved nothing. It’s best for me to mourn alone. I’ll leave you now.”

“Wait!” Brooke stood up as Jake turned, and he stopped in his tracks. “I’ll come with you, Jake.”

“I’m not Jake. He’s somewhere else.” 

“Cousin, please. Tell me- who is it that you love?” 

“I love...” Jake took a deep breath, then released it. “I love a woman.” 

“Great. That’s very descriptive.”

“Her name is Madeline, and she’s the most beautiful woman in Verona.”

“Beautiful women do fall quickly.” Brooke remarked, hiding her happiness at the fact that she now knew the mystery woman’s identity.

“That’s the problem.” Jake groaned. “She refuses to fall. The woman I love has shielded herself in chastity, and she refuses to bow to the magic of love. She won’t listen to words of love, or let you look at her with loving eyes. This woman is rich in beauty, but she’s also poor, because when she dies her beauty will be lost.”

“So the woman you love has sworn to be chaste forever?” Brooke asked.

Jake nodded. “Indeed. She won’t be able to pass on her beauty to her children, because she’s refused to have any. Instead, she’s devoted to worship. Now, I’m a dead man walking. I live, but I don’t thrive. Air flows into my lungs, but what for? All it does is let me feel more despair.” 

Okay, Jake was crossing over into _emotional brooding_ territory. “Here’s my advice, cousin. Forget about her.”

“Teach me to forget.” Jake’s shoulders slumped.

“You forget by giving liberty to your eyes.” Brooke smiled, as if she could transfer some of her joy to her cousin. “Madeline isn’t the only woman in Verona, Jake. There are other fish in the sea.”

“Looking at other women will only remind me of how beautiful she is in comparison. I look at a beautiful woman, and all I see is a reminder that there’s someone much more beautiful I could be looking at instead. You can’t teach me to forget.”

“Just watch me.” Using her hands, Brooke guided Jake out of the bar and into the open marketplace. “I will find you someone else, Jacob Dillinger, if I have to parade them over your dead body!”


	2. Chapter 2

After the morning’s spectacle, all of Verona seemed to be talking about what would happen next. How long would it be before the Goranskis and the Dillingers fought again? Would Princess Rolan actually uphold her new edict? 

The air was practically buzzing with these questions, but inside the parlor of the Goranski estate, a different kind of question hung in the air. 

“Your parents are pressuring you to marry?” 

Matthew Goranski, the head of House Goranski, sat in a comfortable plush chair, looking over a tea set at a well-dressed young woman who had just come to him with an imposing dilemma. Matthew was twenty-five, but carried himself with such maturity and poise that strangers assumed he was much older. He used that maturity to run House Goranski, steering the name through good and bad times alike. He knew the woman across from him was intimidated- he tended to have that effect on those younger than him -and so he spoke with a gentleness that he hoped would soothe her worries.

The young woman nodded slowly. “Yes, Sir Goranski. I’ve come to you for help. You’re an honorable man, and your family has made agreements with mine in the past.”

“Indeed we have, Countess Canigula.” Matthew nodded. 

“Please, call me Christine.” Christine Canigula’s mouth spread into a small smile.

“This is a massive request.” Matthew set his cup of tea down on the table between him and Christine. “You’re asking to marry my brother.” 

“My family has set a very strict deadline for me.” Christine’s smile faded, and she bit her lip. “They say women younger than me are already married and having children.” 

“Your family doesn’t seem to understand that those who marry young grow up far too soon.” Matthew sighed. 

“It would simply be a marriage of convenience.” Christine looked up at Matthew with pleading eyes. 

“Hmm...” Matthew pondered for a second. He wasn’t the type of man to marry off his younger brother for an alliance between two noble houses. His parents had tried to do the same thing to him before they died, and Matthew wasn’t about to inflict that upon his sweet brother- the only family he had. “I’ll tell you what. I’m having a party tonight- a lot of people will be there, including my brother. Talk to him while you’re there. If he agrees to a marriage, then I’ll happily allow it. And if he doesn’t, there will be other noble boys there. You can talk with one of them instead.” 

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off the table and added something to what was already a very long list. He then looked up at the open parlor door and called out, “Orpheus!” 

“Yes, sir?” A young man with dark hair poked his head in through the open parlor door.

Matthew held out the piece of paper. “Orpheus, find everyone on this list and tell them that they’re cordially invited to my party this evening.” 

Orpheus nodded, taking the paper and walking with it out the door and into the streets of Verona. He got rather far from the Goranski estate before he remembered one small hindrance- he couldn’t exactly _read_. 

He looked at the paper- he couldn’t understand a word of it. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure he was even holding it right side up. 

As Orpheus was struggling with his own illiteracy, Brooke and Jake were walking down the exact street he happened to be on. Jake was still hunched over, mourning his unrequited love, while Brooke walked backwards in front of him, trying to snap him out of it. 

“Come on, Jake.” Brooke stumbled over a loose cobblestone in the road- a hazard of not looking where one was going. “You can’t just brood forever! There’s loads of girls in Verona. Make yourself lovesick over one of them. You’ll cure your old lovesickness soon enough.”

“The plantain leaf is excellent for that.” Jake remarked.

“For what?”

“For your broken shin.” 

“What?” Brooke’s eyes widened. 

“I can’t simply make myself lovesick over another girl. That’s like asking a man with his arms tied to grab something in front of him. It’s like asking a man with no mouth to eat. It’s like asking a-“ 

Jake was cut off when Brooke stumbled into a man standing in the middle of the street, looking down at a piece of paper and mumbling something to himself. 

“Sorry!” Brooke turned around to face the man. “My bad, good sir.”

“It’s quite alright.” The man bit his lip and looked down at the paper again. “Say, do either of you know how to...” He looked around, as if making sure no one was listening, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “ _Read_?”

“I can read my own misery.” 

Brooke elbowed Jake in the side, as if to say “ _please don’t scare off this nice man with your uncontrolled emotions_ ”.

“Wonderful!” The man smiled. “Can you read what’s written here?” He pointed to the paper, and now Jake and Brooke could see that someone had written a list of names in black ink. 

Jake nodded. “If I know the language.” 

“Oh.” The man’s shoulders slumped. “Well, thank you for your honesty. I’ll just be on my way.”

“No, you misunderstand.” Brooke put a hand on the man’s shoulder before he could walk away. “He can read just fine.”

The man’s face brightened once more, and he handed the paper to Jake, who cleared his throat and began to read.

“ _Madame Chandler;  
Sir Healy and his sister;   
Countess Persephone and her husband;   
Lady Regina;   
Countess Canigula;   
My cousin Chloe;   
My niece Madeline_-“ 

Jake’s face fell slightly at that name, but he managed to finish the list.

“ _Princess Rolan;  
And Countess Lydia and her father._

” 

“That’s a nice assembly of people.” Brooke remarked. “What are they gathering for?”

“My master is throwing a grand party this evening.” The man took the paper back from Jake. “Over at the Goranski estate.” He stopped, as if an idea had suddenly hit him. “Hey, feel free to come. My master won’t mind. As long as you’re not of the house of Dillinger.” He chuckled to himself, as if he’d told a joke, and Brooke and Jake gave halfhearted laughs that they hoped sounded natural. “Have a nice day!”

As the man walked off, Brooke turned to Jake with a smile on her face. “Jake, do you know what this means?” 

“We really need to focus on our education system?” 

“No, not that.” Brooke shook her head. “Didn’t you hear him? He said we’re welcome to go to the party.”

“I believe his words were _’As long as you’re not of the house of Dillinger’_.” Jake made quotation marks with his hands as he spoke. 

“They don’t _know_ that.” Brooke spread her arms out beside her. “Plus, Madeline will be at the party, along with a bunch of other beauties. You’ll see for yourself how much better those other girls are than her.”

“If my eyes ever mislead me like that, let my tears become flames and burn them for their lies.” Jake said. “No woman is more beautiful than Madeline. That’s like saying a star is as bright as the sun.”

“Enough with the metaphors already!” Brooke said. “You think Madeline is the most beautiful because you didn’t have anyone to compare her to. Come with me to this party, and let your eyes judge her at a fair competition.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I’ll go with you-“ 

“Yes!” Brooke pumped her fist in the air.

“-but not so you can show me other girls. I’ll go there to see Madeline. As long as I live, no woman could make me stop loving her.” 

***

Back at the Goranski estate, the atmosphere was so harried and chaotic that one would assume they were preparing for an army invasion rather than a party. It turned out, putting off all your decorating and planning until right before the event had that effect.

“Heidi!” Matthew walked into the parlor, still adjusting the collar of his dress coat. “Where’s my brother? Can’t you call him?”

Heidi, who had been the nurse for the Goranski boys ever since they were babies, turned around to look at Matthew. She wore a long dress with puffed sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the apron across her front clearly indicating that she hadn’t had the chance to change into more formal attire. “By my maidenhead, I’ve already called him! Bloody hell, I’ve been calling him for the past five minutes!” As if to prove her point, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “ _Richard Goranski!_ ”

“Sorry!” A young man of about nineteen ran into the parlor, very narrowly avoiding a servant holding a tray of sweets. He wore a dress coat, but the collar was crooked and his shirt wasn’t tucked into his pants. “Who’s calling?”

“Your brother.” Heidi suppressed a giggle at her lord’s harried state.

Richard- more often simply called Rich -turned to his brother. “I’m here now, Matt. What’s the matter?”

“I have very important matters to discuss. Heidi, leave us for a moment. We must talk privately.” After a second of Heidi standing there with her hands on her hips, Matt realized what he had said and shook his head. Heidi was more like a mother to them than a servant. “You can stay. Heidi, you know how young my brother is.” 

“Indeed.” Heidi nodded, smiling warmly down at Rich. “Why, I could tell his age to the hour.”

“He’s almost twenty.” Matt said. 

“I’d bet twenty of my own teeth that he isn’t.” Heidi straightened the collar of Rich’s coat. “How long until Lammastide?” 

“About two weeks.” Rich piped up.

“Exactly.” Heidi smiled. “He’ll be twenty that day, and not a moment sooner. I remember that you and Evan- God rest all Christian souls - were born on the very same day. Evan is with God now, but you are still here.” She cupped Rich’s face in her hands. “Oh, I can’t believe it. Twenty years old- it seems like just yesterday you were a wee little baby. The prettiest one I ever nursed. I’ll tell you, Matt, whoever marries your brother is going to be very, very lucky.”

“While we’re on the subject of marriage-“ Matt spoke up, seizing the gap in Heidi’s words. Both Goranski boys loved Heidi, but there was no denying that she could be quite the chatterbox when she wanted to. “-Rich, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Oh. I haven’t thought about it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“There is a young lady attending the party tonight- do you remember Christine, of House Canigula? You and her played together when you were very young. She’s reached the age where her family has started talking about marriage, and she stopped by the house earlier to inform me that if you consent, she would be happy to enter a marriage with you.”

“Oh, little Christine!” Heidi clapped her hands together. “I remember her. Rich, you and her would always play make-believe. She would be the princess, and you’d be the knight who had to rescue her.”

“There’s no need to rush into anything.” Matt said. “I’m simply bringing up the possibility. If you see her tonight, talk to her. She’s a lovely girl- you’ll get along very well.” 

Rich looked down shyly. “I’ll talk to her.” He said quietly, “But I’m not going to pretend I like her for the sake of a marriage alliance.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” Matt grabbed his brother gently by the shoulders and smiled. Rich returned the look, and there was a moment of peaceful silence.

The tender moment was broken, however, by Orpheus running into the parlor. “Sir! The party’s started. It’s out of control.” 

“What?” Matt looked down at his watch. “It started five minutes ago!”

“Yes, but we could use your assistance all the same.”

“We’ll be just one minute more.” Matt said. “Rich, come.”

As Rich walked to the door, Heidi stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Richard, dear.”

“Hmm?” Rich turned around to face his nurse. 

“Look for someone tonight who will make you happy until the end of your days.”

With that, the two brothers walked off to join the party, without any inkling of what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone wanna make bets on what’ll happen at the party


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The extreme version of 90 Day Fiancé

The sun had only just set when Brooke and Jake made their way towards the Goranski estate. The full moon shone bright enough that they and the other maskers only needed to carry a few lanterns to light their ways- otherwise, they walked empty-handed. Well, except for their friend Jeremy. _He_ was carrying a bottle that he had undoubtedly snatched from his father’s wine cellar. 

Jeremy wasn’t originally part of the plan to sneak into the party. However, once he’d overheard the two of them discussing how they were going to sneak out of the house once it got dark, his curiosity had been piqued. He wouldn’t have told his father- Jeremiah Heere was many things, but he wasn’t a snitch - but he did want to join in the party. And so, he was added to Brooke and Jake’s plan. Neither of them minded much, anyway.

“What will we say is our excuse for being here?” Jake adjusted the mask on his face, white material sculpted into the shape of a swan’s face, with holes cut out for his eyes and an orange beak that stopped at the end of his nose.

“It’s out of fashion to do that.” Brooke’s mask was very similar to Jake’s, except hers was in the shape of a dove’s face rather than a swan’s. “Let them judge us as they like. They have no clue who we are.”

“Give me the torch.” Jake gestured to the lantern Brooke carried, with a candle inside emanating a soft, golden light. “It’s inappropriate to dance while one is in mourning. I’ll carry the light.”

Jeremy shook his head. “No, Jake, I won’t allow it. You’ve got to dance.” His mask was in the shape of a crow, and painted black in a stark contrast to Jake and Brooke’s white masks. 

“Easy for you to say.” Jake sighed. “The soles of your feet are nimble, so you have no problem dancing. My soul is made of lead, and so it keeps me on the ground, frozen...” 

As Jake continued to talk, Brooke leaned over and whispered to Jeremy. “Has he been doing _this_ for the past week?” 

Jeremy nodded. “Every single day.” 

“...Cupid’s arrow has pierced me so. The wound sinks me down- I can’t leap any higher than my dull sadness. I simply have to sink under love’s weight.” 

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “If you sink, you’re dragging love down. That’s not what you do with something as _tender_ as love.” The sarcasm on the word ‘tender’ was practically dripping from his voice.

“Is love really tender?” Jake sighed, the sarcasm having flown right over his head. “It’s too rough, too rude, too rowdy. It pricks like a thorn.” 

Jeremy took a swig from the bottle he held and clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Jacob, my dear brother. If love plays rough with you, play rough with love.” He raised his eyebrow, giving the innuendo a second to sink in. “If you prick love when it pricks you, you’ll beat it down soon enough.”

“All this talk of love and pricking.” Brooke gestured to all around them- the other maskers had already made their way inside, leaving the three of them standing alone outside. “Let’s go in now.” 

“I’ll take the torch.” Jake reached for the lantern, but Brooke held it out of his reach. “Let you playful souls with your light hearts do the dancing. You can’t lose if you don’t play the game. I’ll sit this one out.”

“Ugh.” Jeremy groaned. “You’re being a stick in the mud, brother. We’re burning daylight here!” 

“We are not burning daylight, Jeremy, it’s nighttime.” Jake gestured to the moon above their heads. 

“I meant that the longer we stand here, the more light of our lantern burns away, which is like wasting sunshine. Use your noggin once in a while, huh?” He grabbed Jake’s arm and began to drag him towards the entrance, but Jake stopped abruptly.

“It’s not wise for us to go.” 

This time, both Jeremy and Brooke groaned audibly. Jeremy turned back around to face his brother. “And why is that?”

“I had a dream last night.” Jake said.

Jeremy’s eyes widened, as if in shock. “That’s... that’s crazy. So did I!” 

“Really?” Jake looked just as surprised as Jeremy did by this. “What was yours?”

Jeremy dropped the surprised facade. “That dreamers often lie.” 

“They lie in bed, and they dream the truth.” 

“Oh.” Jeremy put his bottle in Brooke’s free hand and flung his arm around Jake. “Then I take it you’ve been with Queen Mab?” 

“Who’s Queen Mab?” Brooke’s nose wrinkled with confusion.

“She’s the fairy queen, no bigger than the stone on an alderman’s ring. She rides around in a wagon drawn by a team of little atomies, and she rides over men’s noses as they lie sleeping. They say she’s the bringer of dreams. For example, if she rides her chariot over a lover, they dream of love that night. A courtier will dream of curtsies, and a lawyer, of money. Sometimes she’ll ride over a priest’s nose, and he’ll dream of a generous donation. Sometimes she’ll ride over a soldier’s neck, and then he dreams of cutting the throats of foreign enemies, of breaking down walls, of ambushes!” Jeremy spread his arms out, as if he were telling an interesting story. “This is the Mab who tangles horses’ hair at night, and makes them into knots that bring bad luck to whoever untangles them. She’s the hag who gives false hope to virgins, teaching them how to hold a lover and bear a child. She’s the one-“

“Enough, enough, Jeremy!” Jake cut his brother off. “You’re talking foolishness.”

Jeremy nodded. “Exactly. I’m talking about dreams, which are the product of a bored mind and nothing more.” He grabbed the wine bottle from Brooke and took another swig. 

“You could have just said _that_.” Jake said. “Why’d you have to go on monologuing like that?”

“To put it simply, brother, dreams are as thin as the wind and about as predictable.” Jeremy scoffed. 

“This wind you talk of is blowing us off course.” Brooke grumbled, grabbing the arms of her cousins and dragging them towards the entrance. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Jake muttered. “I feel like this is going to end badly for all of us.”

“Jacob Dillinger, I swear, if you say one more word about why you’re not going to this party-“

“I’m going!” Jake held up his hands, as if in surrender. 

“All right!” Jeremy threw his free hand into the air. 

“That took a _lot_ of convincing.” Brooke rolled her eyes.

***

The party was in full swing by the time Jake, Brooke, and Jeremy arrived. A band was playing an upbeat tune, and the dance floor was already crowded with guests dancing, chatting, and laughing. In the haze of people, Jake managed to lose sight his friends within five minutes of stepping onto the dance floor. He was half dancing, half scanning the dance floor for any hint that he wasn’t alone, when he saw something that made him stop in his tracks.

It was a boy. A gorgeous boy. He danced with a young woman in an elegant green dress, moving to the music with such precision that it may as well have been his heartbeat. It felt like Jake had forgotten how to breathe, how to move, how to do anything except stare at the beauty before him. And it was very easy to stare- this boy practically lit up the ballroom every time he smiled. He was so enraptured with the young man that he failed to notice a woman off to the side of the dancing guests, staring at him with daggers in her eyes.

“That’s a Dillinger.” Chloe Valentine muttered a curse under her breath as she set down her drink and turned to her page. “Go get me my sword, boy.” As the page ran off to fetch Chloe’s weapon, she scowled and faced the Dillinger boy. This villain dared to trespass on their celebration? “By the honor of our family, killing him won’t be a sin.” 

Matt, who had noticed his cousin staring at the young man, decided to intervene when her page returned with a sharp sword. “Chloe! What’s the matter?”

“Matt, look.” Chloe pointed out at the Dillinger boy, who still stood frozen. “It’s a Dillinger. Our enemy. He’s come to mock our celebration.”

Matt studied the boy’s profile until recognition lit up his face. “I know him. That’s young Jacob.” 

“Jacob. That villain-“ Chloe took a step towards Jacob, but was stopped by Matt.

“Calm down, cousin. Let him be. He’s not harming anyone, and to tell you the truth, he has a reputation around Verona for being a virtuous young man. I wouldn’t insult him for all the wealth in this town. Just ignore him.” 

“Ignore him?” Chloe scowled. “Matt, this is the right way to act when a villain shows up at your party. I won’t stand for it!”

“Chloe, if you kill him, you’ll cause a riot!” Matt said sharply. “Not to mention Princess Rolan will have your head for violating her edict.”

“He is disrespecting us.” Chloe hissed.

“You are disrespecting me by wanting to kill a man in my house.” Matt looked down at Chloe, as if disciplining a child. “You should be ashamed of yourself. If you’re not going to behave yourself, you can leave.” 

As Matt walked away, Chloe stole another look at the Dillinger boy- at the thug who dared disrespect her kinsmen. Her body trembled with the combination of Matt’s forced patience and her own unbridled rage. “All right.” She muttered. “All right. You win this one, _Jacob_.” The name itself tasted bitter, like poison on her tongue. “But trust me when I say that you’ll regret this later. This is the last time I let you mock my family like this. The last time.” 

With that, Chloe stormed away. 

Oblivious to the thwarted attempt on his life, Jake waited until the music came to a stop before he approached the boy. “Hello.”

“Oh.” The boy looked up at Jake, smiling in a way that was so warm and bright, it could have melted the heart of even the most stoic man. “Hello.” 

“Would you like to dance?” Jake held out his hand, and to his surprise and happiness, the boy took it.

“I would love to.” 

The next song that started up was slow, with simple steps that allowed for the two of them to talk as they moved. 

“You’re quite the gentleman.” The boy remarked, stepping towards Jake in time with the music. 

“I am?” 

The boy nodded. “You’re holding my hand, after all. That shows you’re polite, yet devoted.” 

“It does?” Apparently, touching the hand of a cute boy made it impossible to say more than two words at a time.

“Yes. After all, pilgrims touch the hands of saints. Holding one palm against another is the closest to a kiss they can get.”

“Don’t saints and pilgrims have lips, too?” God, that was a stupid thing to say. Jake was being stupid. He was being the most stupid person in the history of stupid people.

The boy’s cheeks turned pink, and a smile spread across his lips. “Yes, pilgrim, lips they must use in prayer.” 

“Well then, saint,” Jake’s voice trailed off. “Let our lips do what our hands do.”

It took a second for the flirting to sink in, but when it did, the boy’s cheeks turned from pink to scarlet. He laughed, and for a second Jake worried he may have overstepped his boundaries. But then the boy leaned in to kiss him, and Jake met him in the middle as if it had been planned all along.

He felt like he was falling, floating, flying, all at the same time. As the music crescendoed, the two of them became just another couple on the dance floor- nothing more. 

“There.” When they finally pulled apart, both Jake and the boy were smiling. “Now my sin has been taken by your lips.”

“Then am I now the sinner, and you the saint?” The boy smiled teasingly. 

“You flatter me. Give me my sin back.”

“Obliged.” 

They kissed again, a gesture that was every bit as magical and perfect as the first. 

“You kiss as if you’ve studied how to.” The boy said.

The song ended, and reluctantly, the two pulled away from one another. Jake opened his mouth to ask for the boy’s name- in hindsight, maybe he should have done that _before_ they kissed -but was interrupted by a lady in a wine-colored dress who walked up to them. “Sir, your brother would like to speak to you.”

“Oh.” The boy looked over at Jake, biting his bottom lip. “Farewell, I suppose. Until we meet again.” 

As the boy walked away, vanishing among the crowd, Jake turned to the woman. “His brother?”

“Indeed.” The woman nodded. “His brother is the lord of the house. Has been ever since their parents died when they were little. I’ve practically raised him and his brother.”

Jake stopped in his tracks. _The lord of the house? Does that mean... oh, bloody hell._

“Jake!” A hand grabbed Jake’s wrist, and he whirled around to see Brooke, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Come on, let’s go. It’s best-“ She hiccuped, a pretty good indicator of why she was acting this way. Brooke had always been a lightweight. “It’s best to leave a party when it’s in full swing. Then you don’t have to help with cleanup.”

“I’m afraid I’ve still gotten myself into quite a mess.” Jake’s words were only heard by his own ears, as Brooke was busy drunkenly dragging him around to find Jeremy. 

He’d danced with- he’d _kissed_ a Goranski. His sworn enemy. He’d basically just gone and betrayed his entire family in the span of one dance. Could things get any worse?

“Where are you two going?” 

Things had gotten worse. Because standing in front of them was Matthew Goranski- the lord of the house, and the brother of that beautiful young Goranski boy. 

“The party isn’t over yet.” Matthew looked at them, taking in Brooke’s inebriated state and Jake’s face that was no doubt very uncomfortable. 

“Oh, we just have to head home.” Jake said, struggling to keep his voice natural. “It’s two in the morning and all.”

“Two in the-“ Matthew’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, I didn’t realize it was that late.” 

He cupped his hands over his mouth and turned to face the ballroom. “Esteemed guests, I thank you for coming tonight. It’s very late, so unfortunately we must call it a night. My servants will help you to your rides.”

The guests began to exit, and Rich stood off to the side with Heidi, examining them as they walked. Rich craned his neck, looking for a specific boy in particular.

 _There!_ Rich recognized the dove-shaped mask as if it were an old friend. 

“Heidi...” Rich pointed to the boy, who was being dragged out the door by a blonde woman and a man with brown hair. “Who is that young man?”

“Hmm?” Heidi stood on her tiptoes to see who Rich was pointing at. “Oh, I don’t know him.” 

“Can you ask?” Rich looked over at the boy, heat rising in his cheeks. 

“Of course.” As Heidi walked over to the boy, Rich said a silent prayer to himself. 

_Please, please, please don’t let him be married. I’d rather die than marry anyone else._

Heidi finished up her brief conversation with the boy and walked back over to Rich. “That’s Jacob. He’s the only surviving blood member of House Dillinger.” 

Rich’s heart dropped in his chest. “Dillinger?”

“Yes.” Heidi nodded. 

Fate was a wicked woman. The only man he loved was the only man he hated- or was supposed to hate. He’d seen this boy too early to hate him. And now it was too late. 

“Love is the cruelest monster.” Rich didn’t realize he’d spoken those words aloud until he saw Heidi looking at him, confusion creasing her face.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, it’s just... something I learned from someone I danced with.” 

“Rich!” Matt’s voice echoed out from the hallway, and Heidi took Rich’s arm.

“Come on, child. The strangers are gone, and it’s time for you to get to bed.” 

Rich followed Heidi, but he didn’t think he’d be sleeping much tonight. His heart was far too heavy and his head far too full for him to even think of that. 

Outside, Jake managed to lose his friends once more in the crowd- but this time it was on purpose. He intended to see the young man who had captured his heart- Goranski or not.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a repost bc I fucked up and accidentally deleted the first version of this


End file.
